


The Morning After the Night Before

by imaginary_golux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Morning After, No really this is mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: Someone on tumblr wrote, "idk about you but i’m a sucker for the we just had sex and it’s the morning after and i woke up to an empty bed and how could i be so stupid of course you left me alone but wait you’re in my kitchen cooking me breakfast and i’m so relieved trope."So of course I wrote it.





	The Morning After the Night Before

Finn wakes up slowly - a rare luxury, one he only indulges in on the weekends when he doesn’t have any chores lined up. He’s snug under the thick, soft blanket that was Rey’s gift to him last “nondenominational winter holiday, Finn, you know I don’t celebrate Christmas,” and he’s sort of pleasantly sore and a little sticky, as though he -

Poe. Finn’s eyes fly open as the memories hit: kissing Poe out by the lake, Poe kissing back, driving home in a haze of heat and hope, falling into bed together too eager to strip properly, tossing their sticky clothing towards the hamper and curling up together, falling asleep so happy it almost hurt.

But there is no warm, compact, beloved body tucked against Finn’s this morning. The sheets are rumpled but cold, the pillow dented where Poe’s head no longer rests. Finn closes his eyes tightly to hold back the prickling tears. He should have known it was too good to be true - should have known it was too much, too fast, too desperate. No wonder Poe left. Finn clings too hard to people, wants too much, hopes too eagerly, and always has.

Maybe if he waits a few days, if he doesn’t make too much of a fuss, if he never speaks again of this night, but tucks the memories away to keep him warm in his lonely bed, Poe will still be his friend. Poe’s a good man, a kind man; maybe he will be able to forgive Finn for this, for loving him when Poe is clearly not as interested.

Slowly and reluctantly, Finn pries himself out of bed, pulls on a pair of worn old pajama pants and goes padding gloomily downstairs. A morning like this calls for hot chocolate, made the right way with milk and real cocoa. Possibly with Bailey’s.

He’s halfway down the stairs when he hears the singing. It’s quiet, soft and low and gentle, and it’s clearly, unmistakably Poe’s voice. Finn doesn’t recognize the tune, but it’s lovely; Poe has a truly beautiful singing voice. It was one of the first things Finn noticed about him, months ago when they met in Maz’s bar.

Poe is singing in Finn’s kitchen.

Finn follows the sound, drawn like a sailor to a siren, hope welling up in his chest so thick he could choke on it, and stops in the doorway, staring. Poe is wearing a pair of Finn’s boxers and the frilly pink apron Rey bought him as a joke housewarming gift, and is standing at the stove with a spatula in one hand, peering down at a pan of something that smells _very_ good, swaying gently, and singing softly and contentedly to himself.

The sudden wave of love that engulfs Finn is so strong he has to brace himself against the doorframe to keep from falling over. “Poe,” he says hoarsely, and Poe turns around, beaming.

“Finn!” he says joyfully. “Good morning, buddy! I’m making - well, it _was_ an omelette, but now I think it’s scrambled eggs.” His grin widens. “So much for impressing you with my amazing cooking skills.”

“I’m easily impressed,” Finn says, a little dazedly.

“Well then, I’m in luck,” Poe says, and puts down the spatula and crosses the space between them in two swift strides and wraps Finn up in a glorious tight hug. Finn takes Poe’s face in his hands and kisses him, pouring all his astonished joy into the press of their lips.

“I thought you’d left,” Finn murmurs when they finally break apart long moments later.

“Never,” Poe says firmly. “You’re not getting rid of me _that_ easily, buddy - now that I’ve finally got a chance with you, I’m not letting it slip through my hands.” He hugs Finn a little more tightly for emphasis.

“Good,” Finn says, and kisses Poe again, making this second kiss rather deeper and filthier, tasting orange juice on Poe’s tongue. “Now, about those eggs you promised me…”

“Way to a man’s heart _is_ the stomach,” Poe agrees, grinning. “Want to toast some bread to go with? I saw some interesting jam in your fridge.”

The eggs are a little too brown and the toast a bit burnt, and it’s easily the best breakfast Finn can remember having, because Poe is sitting across from him at the table, wearing nothing but Finn’s boxers and a broad, adoring smile.

The next morning, _Finn_ wakes up first, and lies there grinning at the ceiling while Poe snuffles against his shoulder. He could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I am on tumblr as imaginarygolux; drop on by!


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